A Septic Spiel of Spooky Scares, Super Heroes, and Strange Stories from Miles Beneath the Crud of New Jersey!
I’m the slowest reader of all time. My “to read” list is backed up with books, blogs, magazines, and of course, comic books. There’s no way I’d ever make it through a Stephen King novel. Fortunately, Clint Miller Jrs., The House Where Charlie Lived, is a quite manageable 222 pages.
The eerie cover of Miller’s book intrigued me as the gravitational pull magnetized me to it. Just a glance at the cover art will send chills down your spine. Visit the book’s official website and read the teaser, I guarantee you’ll ask when the movie version is coming out.
In 1963, a quiet seashore community becomes the focus of an intense police dragnet when Thomas Lepp gunned down three New Jersey state troopers. Artis Weyland, inspector with the High Crimes Division, leads the manhunt for Thomas Lepp, a psychopathic man suspected of brutally killing his wife, Emma, and her son Charlie.The police have a hard time identifying Emma – her body has been chopped to pieces. They never find her head. Her young son, Charlie, is never found at all.Nearly 40 years later, Allen and Jennifer Cherones, along with their son, Carl, have purchased a two-story house through their good friend and realtor, Ronald Avery. To help fix it up, Allen turns to his brother, Doug, and together the three set out to turn it into a dream home.What seems like a deal to good to be true turns into a real nightmare for the family. They seek the help of their new neighbors, Dorothy and Roger Faustine, who help them unravel the home’s bloody past.When the ghostly threat becomes all too deadly, the family realizes the former residents of this house have never left and are now looking to reclaim it. Now the Cherones’ young boy, Carl, is placed in imminent danger as Thomas Lepp returns to finish his dark deed.
As far as I know, The Jersey Devil hasn’t left the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, but it’s esteem as a cryptid has made references to the mythical creature just as widespread as Bigfoot and The Loch Ness Monster. This month, The Sexy Armpit will take a look at several occasions when The Jersey Devil escaped the Pine Barrens and penetrated pop culture.
My old whiskered swab brought me to a nauseatingly vibrant village where I was greeted by a bunch of no good, pint sized pygmys who called themselves Munchkins. I grabbed one, took a bite out of its fleshy arm, and discovered that they didn’t taste half as good as their famed doughnut counterparts. “Who killed my sister, who killed the Witch of the East?
A shimmer from my sisters ruby slippers caught my eye. I glided over to the remnants of the house to see her mangled legs were only discernible thanks to her magical moccasins. Where did sis find these hideously ugly shoes? My entire wardrobe consists of black cloaks and dresses, so I doubt I’d ever be able to coordinate a full ensemble with these putrid looking things, but damn are they powerful! In this case I could easily forgo the fashion faux pas. I wouldn’t want them falling onto the wrong feet, so I crouched down to retrieve the crimson clogs, BUT WAIT…THEY DISAPPEARED! Great Caesar’s Ghost! How could this happen?
My head jerked back to see a young girl holding a mongrel, prancing around like a solid gold dancer who just got new shoes at Buster Browns. She was wearing the ruby slippers! My face turned brown with anger, you see, it turned brown because obviously my face is green and mixed with the red from the anger I turned brown. You get the picture right? The warts on my face nearly exploded puss everywhere (from the anger).
The strong scent of Bath & Body Works Fresh Linen soared up my enormously large nostrils. I knew that meant it was my old arch enemy, Glinda The Good Witch, the undying thorn in my side. What an ostentatious entrance. Glinda was nice enough to remind me to be cautious or someone might drop a house on me. Little did I know that if I only trademarked the words that were about to slither out of my mouth I wouldn’t still be paying the steep mortgage payments on my castle in Winkie country. “I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog too!” Somewhere the Demon himself, Gene Simmons, is cringing at the immeasurable loss of yearly income.
I scoped out the sky for any rogue flying houses, then did the vroom vroom on the broom broom. I planned to pounce on the wretched trollop Dorothy’s plan to see the stupid fraud Wizard of Oz. Wouldn’t it be funny if they arrived in OZ and they were closed like when the Griswold’s went to Wally World? I was sure a field of pre-poisoned poppy flowers would subdue them. In a slick move, those misfits slipped Dorothy a Vivarin to make sure she was alert. Once they made it to my haunted forest, a squadron of my flying monkeys hoisted them back to my lair. Remind me to give them a raise since they did such a bang up job on this project.
Back in my chamber I tried to take the ruby slippers off of Dorothy’s feet, but I was electrocuted! There must be some kickass security system on those things. As a last resort, threatening to murder a little girls dog is always the way to go in a dire situation. I dare you to try and capture that mangy mutt, it’s damn near impossible! Toto ran off and lead the rest of Dorothy’s crew right to her and then shit was about to go down! Scarecrow tried to mess with me so I set his arm on fire.
Dorothy threw water at Scarecrow to put out the fire, but it hit me instead! At first I figured, hey it’s only water, right? Until I started to melt. I mean literally melt like Velveeta on nachos in the microwave, except nowhere near as tasty. Come to think of it, I looked more like guacamole. What’s amazing about how this whole thing turned out is that I was lucky enough to escape any trace of water in my life previous to that moment. Raindrops never fell on my head (cause I wear a hat), I guess I’ve always stepped around puddles as not to get my feet wet, was never pelted with a super soaker, or hit with a water balloon. Swimming was a no go, I don’t have sweat glands, and I’ve obviously never brushed my teeth or took a shower because I was that f-cking wicked.
October is the time of year that excites me beyond belief. The eerie nights filled with cool air bring to mind memories of Halloween and horror movies. Halloween time is the best time to be a part of this grand blogosphere thanks to what is known as The Countdown to Halloween. It’s a month chock full of the coolest scary, ghoulish, and horrific posts we bloggers can come up with. Of course, not all posts are scary. Some posts will be about candy, costumes, or decorations and that just adds to the fun.
Whether you are a blogger, a reader, let yourself get wrapped up in the mood of the Halloween season. To begin the celebration I’ve compiled a list of the most entertaining posts from past Halloween Countdowns. If you missed any, be sure to check them out, it’s much appreciated! As for this year, there’s so much material to post and I can’t wait! Also, look out for the long awaited next installment of Jay’s Nocturna Mission!
To be part of the Countdown to Halloween, and find out what other sites are participating, visit Shawn Robare, John Rozum, and Jon K at HQ: http://www.countdowntohalloween.com/ or you can click on the link on the top right of the sidebar.
In case you weren’t able to be at Exxxotica this year I’ve captured my experience and edited it into a montage for you. Much of the footage was taken hours before the place became mobbed.
The 2nd annual Exxxotica convention took place on Friday September 25th and The Sexy Armpit was lucky enough to be there sandwiched between all the vibrators, ceramic dongs, and of course tons of adult film stars! It was my first Exxxotica convention and I was honestly impressed with the reverence it paid to an industry constantly faced with adversity. Censorship in the United States relegates anything, even semi explicit material, into the taboo category. You could imagaine the crusade that it took the organizers of the Exxxotica convention to actually bring it to the public. After getting ousted from Secaucus, New Jersey, whether they liked it or not, Edison, New Jersey became home to Exxxotica 2009. Now for my blow by blow account.
Whether you’re into Comic Books, Star Wars, Buffy, or even Twilight, there’s an expo hall somewhere in the country hosting a convention for your pastime. If your pastime is sex and adult films, don’t you feel left out? It’s not so bad if you live on the west coast, especially Los Angeles and Vegas since running into a porn star is way more likely there. Exxxotica also brings their show to Miami so it’s only logical to hold another leg of the convention only miles away from New York City. It’s about damn time that a sexpo not just for industry folk came to the Northeast. The opportunity to rub implants or elbows with girls (or guys) you’ve only fantasized about on the computer or in magazines is pretty special regardless your views on sex. If people can dress up as a Klingon, go to a Trek convention, and stand on line for Nimoys autograph, then why the hell not have a sex convention where you meet tons of your favorite porn stars and have the chance to preview and purchase the latest sex products?
You don’t have to be a sex addict to enjoy this convention. The NJ Expo Hall transformed into a pink playground of sexual fantasies. The eye candy sent me into overload. Girls dressed in sexy pink and black lingerie roamed the floor posing for pictures and flirting with the attendees. It was no different than taking pictures with a guy in a Captain America costume at the Marvel comics kiosk at the NY Comic Con. When I wasn’t distracted by all the hot ass, I was scoping out the scene for my favorite porn stars. From Jenna Haze to the girls from Burning Angel, everyone was at Exxxotica.
Next year make sure you get 2 tickets, and bring your boyfriend or girlfriend. It’s the best time you’ll ever have in Edison, New Jersey.
You’ve probably read my review or tweets gloating about how great a film The Perfect Age of Rock ‘n’ Roll is, if not, read this. If you’re near Woodstock, New York this weekend, you must check it out and see for yourself at The Woodstock Film Festival. Perfect Age is an inventive take on a classic theme. It’s a rock and roll road movie filled with kickass music and appearances by a few blues legends.
The Perfect Age of Rock ‘n’ Roll will be showing on October 2nd and 3rd. The film stars Jason Ritter, Taryn Manning, Kevin Zegers, Peter Fonda, and Marty E. of the New York City rock band The Dirty Pearls!
On October 3rd, to coincide with the east coast premiere of the film at the Woodstock Film Festival, you’ll be able to witness these legends LIVE in a special performance. Coming together on stage will be blues legends Hubert Sumlin, Pinetop Perkins, Sugar Blue, and Bob Stroger.
Click here for more info on the festival and to purchase tickets.
Click here to check out the official website of the film which streams original rock tracks from the soundtrack: http://theperfectageofrocknroll.com
“ANDI…YOU GOONIE!” is a quote permanently etched into our brains thanks to that cheap guy Troy, but you may not be as familiar with the actress who played our favorite cheerleader, Andi Carmichael, Kerri Green. Green is best known for a handful of classic ’80s films such as Lucas, Summer Rental, and her signature role in The Goonies. As September’s Garden State Playmate, Green has prime eligibility since she was born in Fort Lee, NJ and went to high school in Montvale, NJ.
Green didn’t just portray Andi as the cute teenaged cheerleader. She was innocent, yet tough at the same time. One second she’s screaming and scared shitless, and the next she’s scolding Troy that she’ll smack him in the face and later bragging about how she elbowed his lip. Also, in a subtle nod to Judy Garland’s Dorothy, vulnerable Andi whined that she wasn’t a Goonie and she wanted to go home, but she can still organize the shit out of a victory pyramid. Kerri Green can play my bones any day.
**On a side note, a big thank you to Troy for planting the idea in my young male brain that you need not be perverse to see some crotch, you just need to be crafty. So, thank you Troy Perkins for teaching us, NAY, the WORLD, the old Rear View Mirror Upskirt Move.